


Bottom

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominance, F/F, Ficlet, Mirror Universe, Submission, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 22:55:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2828984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Janice brings coffee to her new master.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> A/N: MU-AU for the TOS episode “Mirror, Mirror,” in which Marlena is captain.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

By the time Janice works her way up to serving the captain, she’s _ecstatic_. She’s been told she’ll never be good for anything more than a yeoman—but of course, the Empire is full of assholes who just want to keep you down—and being a yeoman under the captain is still a place of power. But it’s more than the prestige that puts a spring in Janice’s step as she marches down the corridor, posture straight for a proper don’t-fuck-with-me-today vibe. Captain Marlena Moreau is also her personal hero: one of the most powerful women in the entire Terran Empire, and completely _gorgeous_ on top of that.

And the Enterprise is no different than any other starship, which means the higher up officers like to take advantage of the lower-raking ones, which means Janice might have a shot at feeling that beauty under her own fingertips. Assuming the captain is up for dalliances with women, of course. Just in case, Janice put everything she could into her appearance this morning; her golden hair is a particularly ornate weave of an up-do, her tight top pulled down around the collar for extra cleavage, her tiny miniskirt hanging just a bit too low off her hips. Her sash isn’t knotted, but instead fastened in an easily-undone bow, stuck a little forward like it _wants_ to come loose. Janice wore her very best lingerie, her favourite makeup, and she pulled out all the stops on the coffee she’s bringing for express delivery. If she’s stuck as a yeoman, she’s going to be a damn good one to her lion of a queen.

The doors to Captain Moreau’s chambers, keyed only to authorized personnel—and now her—swish easily aside on her entrance. Her steps don’t even have to falter, and she makes sure they don’t; lesson number one of Starfleet survival is never show weakness. She marches right up to where the gorgeous captain is lounging back at her desk, command gold already in place with all the appropriate captaincy trimmings. The captain barely looks up as Janice approaches, and Janice bends nearly in two with her bow once she’s close enough, holding out the crisp mug off coffee. 

Captain Moreau nods for Janice to straighten out, casually takes the lidded-mug and gives it a shake. Then she announces, as though such a gesture could actually determine the contents, “Black, Tellarite blend?” Janice shakes her head, too petrified in awe to speak. A sharp grin creases the corners of Captain Moreau’s elegant lips. “My favourite.”

Janice knows. She’s been working towards this for a long time, and she’ll do everything she can to hold onto it. Most yeoman end up in the agony booth every day for the first week of serving new masters, but Janice is a quick study. Captain Moreau’s eyes idly trace Janice’s nearly-quivering form, and finally, she turns back to her whirring computer console, popping the lid open and lifting the coffee to her mouth. 

Janice holds her breath as the first swig goes down, but Captain Moreau’s expression remains merely thoughtful. Her tongue swipes over her lips, and after a pause, she announces, “Delightful.” The mug is then placed heavily on the counter, and the captain glances back at Janice, while Janice waits with bated breath for further instructions. 

She’s half hoping that she’ll be ordered to get on her knees below the captain’s private desk and pleasure her until alpha shift starts, but of course, Janice knows it’s more likely she’ll be ordered to fetch digital paperwork or drag an ensign in by the ear for some flogging entertainment. The captain gives her a long look, then reaches down and digs a finger into the black lace strap of Janice’s panties, peeking just out of her skirt. Janice’s breath catches, heart beating wildly in her chest. The captain’s hand traces it down to the middle, holds beneath her bellybutton, then presses flat against her stomach, palm fiery hot against her pale skin. The hand lightly fingers the hem of Janice’s skirt, then slips inside. 

In one quick swoop, Captain Moreau’s hand slides down the inside of Janice’s panties, cupping her pussy, fingers trailing along her lips, growing embarrassingly moist from the attention and hopeful daydreams. The captain’s middle finger presses in, rubs between them, thumb catching and teasing Janice’s clit, mapping her so easily, so skilled; but of course the captain would be excellent at this; she’s excellent at everything. Janice is both honoured and impossibly turned on, and she arcs her hips a fraction forward, mouth opening to gasp, while Captain Moreau fingers her and idly announces, “I like your panties, yeoman.”

Janice nearly moans, “Thank you, Captain.” She’d bow again, but with two fingers now slithering inside her pussy, she can’t move. Captain Moreau plays with Janice a minute longer, then draws her hand out and wipes it off on Janice’s skirt, while Janice whines in dismay.

“Leave them here.”

It takes a second for Janice to understand. But as soon as it catches up with her, her head spinning from the pleasure, she snaps to obey. Bending down and reaching below her skirt, she shoves her panties down her thighs, sure that she’s made them wet and soiled, but it doesn’t matter; her captain’s given her an order. She squirms out of the small underwear, pulls her panties over her boots and leaves them on the floor, stepping out. She doesn’t ask if she should retrieve new ones to wear; she knows better than that. 

The captain chuckles, “Good girl,” and pats Janice’s hip like a horse. Something in Janice’s chest glows; this is going better than she thought it would. So Captain Moreau enjoys playing with toys, after all. Janice will happily oblige. 

Nodding towards the door, Captain Moreau announces, “Go to your duties; you’ll be summoned when you’re needed.”

Janice jolts back into a bow, aware that she’s now exposing her bare ass to the door, but she can tell from her captain’s expression that the show of obedience is appreciated. Straightening back out, Janice turns around to leave, jumping once when her captain’s hand slaps across her rear. The happy chuckling that follows is music to Janice’s ears. Perhaps being a yeoman forever isn’t such a terrible fate after all.


End file.
